Eating Rat

''I think rats are so underappreciated.”
—Robert Sullivan, NY Times

10 a.m. Time to tune in.

Our cruising community got on the ham radio every morning to exchange information. The island, San Jose, off the Pacific coast of Panama, was often mentioned in the conversation. The chatter included a discussion of Gerta and Dieter, a German couple who had arrived by sailboat, moved ashore and set up camp. They were raising papaya, other fresh fruit and, most interestingly, rats to eat. Other cruisers had tasted the rats and said they were delicious. Eating rat was an adventure Betty and I hadn’t had in our 12 years of cruising. We were intrigued.

San Jose has a beautiful volcanic bay sprinkled with white sand and deep blue water dotted with rugged rock formations and we decided to stay a few days with the prospect of sampling a rat dinner. The island had a freshwater lagoon that was only yards back from the beach, which was a big attraction for us as we had no water maker in those days and our freshwater supply was always very dear. We went ashore in the afternoons to bathe in the chest deep water, which we thoroughly enjoyed until the day Dieter asked if we had seen the alligators. That was the end of all bathing for Betty.

I made a deal with Dieter to trade lamb chops we had in our freezer for a rat all dressed and ready to eat. When the appointed day came for the lamb chop/rat exchange, Dieter’s face was a mile-long. He apologized because he could not deliver the nice fat rat he had promised. The night before, it had produced babies. Alas, I have never eaten rat.

But I did have guinea pig for dinner one night when I was in Peru with the grandkids. It was served whole, including the skull and shiny teeth. Problem was it was so spiced up I really couldn’t tell what the meat tasted like. The grandkids thought it was gross!